


Familiar (Love)

by KnifeFriend



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Attempt at deadpan Humor, Complicated Relationships, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 05:56:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2840549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnifeFriend/pseuds/KnifeFriend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seifer doesn’t believe in love. That mushy, breath-taking, candle-lit, fragrant, wide-eyed love that people (for some irredeemable reason) believe will lead the way in the disease-ridden road called life. Seiner. One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Familiar (Love)

Seifer doesn’t believe in love. That mushy, breath-taking, candle-lit, fragrant, wide-eyed love that people (for some irredeemable reason) believe will lead the way in the disease-ridden road called life. 

Not that Seifer is the type of bastard who, although may come off as a conceited prick, is a pretentious, against-the-system, alternative thug. He’s tried it—love, to be more exact. In his nobel, and sometimes called “knightly”, morals, he believed he should know how something works before he has an exact opinion.

He dated a several girls in high school. Only Rinoa, some pushy girl, managed to be together with Seifer for over a year. Even though he disliked everyone other than Fujin and Raijin, and especially hated people who has to push themselves on others, Rinoa managed to allure the scarred male. But it was only an infatuation. So before he went to college he dropped the over-rated, yet expected, romantic pursuit that people believed would help solve his ruthless anger. 

College finally got his adoptive parents to stop bothering him to find a girl. He told them that he was too busy studying to think about relationships. They seemed happy with that, at least. 

In the end Seifer defined his relationships in a platonic way. He believed in a sense of dependancy. Relationships had to be a give-and-take, and Raijin and Fujin completed that expectation. They were the only ones that at (first thought) had that sort of intimacy with the gruff fighter. It was a sort of consistency he needed in his life to stabilize him; remind him of his only human standards. So that’s how he functioned. He went to college when he had classes, he hung out with his two friends, on occasion fought to let off steam, went back to his dorm, studied, slept, and repeat. 

When his long-time rival told him he didn’t want to fight anymore, another unnoticed consistency in his life, he just suckered the pushy prick (the type of person that he was known to hate), spat out a _“fine then, fuck off”,_ in four syllables, grit out behind clenched teeth and passed his split and swollen lips. The doe eyes looked almost— _almost_ —hurt when they snapped back to Seifer. Hayner’s maturing face contorted into a sneer that contradicted his familiar brown eyes that would so often lock with his before they fought with heaving breaths, accelerating heart-beats, and bruised fists. 

Seifer didn’t fight for months afterwards. He stopped his bad habit of picking fights with random thugs in high school, so it’s not like he fought much any more in the first place. Everyone he sparred with in his Struggle team couldn’t match up to his brute force. Before he knew it he was pent up with anger that would send him snarling at strangers who would look at him the wrong way. Fujin articulated in her one-word sentences that he needed to seek console for his anger issue. Not that she meant actually seeing a professional, but finding a way to release his anger. But it forced Seifer to think about way he was _fucking_ pissed all the _goddammed_ time. 

Maybe he just didn’t think to acknowledge that aching (head-aching, not heart-aching. That sounds too fucking romantic for Seifer Almasy) that told him he missed Hayner Duncan. Maybe—just _maybe_ —the missing consistency of rivalry he has had since elementary school really changed Seifer. He liked to pound that prick into the ground, and the unacknowledged mutual repetition of their relationship kept them more together than they thought. The more he pondered on the subject the more he couldn’t deny it.

Sometimes he’d get stupid dreams—not “aww” deserving or girly dreams—but those types of dreams that would connote to his denied emotions that he missed the curly haired blond. Dreams where Seifer would wander into an alley, fight some fucker before that fucker would somehow manage to overpower him, and then Hayner would appear and beat both their asses into bloody, pathetic pulps. Seifer always felt sick after dreams like that. 

Maybe it was because of the embarrassment of getting his unconscious dream-self beat, or the realization he missed fighting the other male he felt sick. Maybe it was because it forced him to realize he is dependency on Hayner. So Seifer felt vulnerable. Before he recognized it he had that sort of intimacy with his rival that only best friends would have. He could name his favorite color, his favorite brand of clothes, the brand of hair spray he used, his birthday, his shoe size, his weight, his hobbies, his preferred fighting styles, his allergies, his favorite foods—all sorts ridiculous, insignificant things. 

Eventually Seifer found himself taking daily walks down to the Sandlot, hoping to just see Hayner Duncan. Sometimes he’d see the other blond priss, Roxas, who’d narrow his cerulean eyes at the taller male. 

He didn’t mean to asked the other blond if Hayner is still around. It was just a question that he asked without thought. The evident shock, which lead to astonished sputtering of an evasive answer, lead Seifer to growl, looming over Roxas. The conversation quickly turned into a bickering of questions to replies like, “Why do you care?!”, which lead the scarred male to grind out, “Does it matter?! I _care_.”

After that Seifer wasn’t sure what happened, but the those too-goddamed-blue eyes squinted, lips curling into a smirk, before he laughed out a, “Fine, come back here tomorrow, asshole.”

* * *

First thing when Hayner and Seifer met eyes for the first time on months, Seifer didn’t know to lunge towards the asshole who has obviously been purposefully avoiding him, or look at his slowly maturing face, or observe the growing bags under his eyes, or for once in their bruised and co-dependent relationship, try to make amends. But Hayner seemed like he knew what he wanted, 

“Are we here just to have a staring contest?” he muttered. It made Seifer grin. It might have seemed like antagonizing grin, because Hayner glared and his shoulders tensed as if to prepare for a fist. Rather it was more like a relief, to still bicker after the exhaustive drop out between the two. 

“No, unless you want to stare into each other’s eyes all day,” Seifer mocked, wondering how far he could push it. 

“…If that’s all, I’m leaving,” the answer was candid and flat, but Hayner’s nostrils flared, his face reddened, and his upper lip twitched into a curl. 

“Don’t--,” Seifer curtly replied. Slowly he began, “…Sorry for the late reply, I’m okay if you don’t want to fight. I think it’d be…” he trailed off with a grunt, wondering how pathetic he sounded. 

“Be what?”

“Be cool if you want to try to be friends,” Seifer choked out. He turned his head, not looking at the short blond. When a few tense seconds passed, and then a few more, and then a several more, and the blue eyes tentatively looked down to Hayner. Once again the brown locked with blue, and the nervous yet familiar feeling between the two of an accelerating heart-beat was a resonance in Seifer’s ears. 

“Why the fuck would I be friends with you?” The delayed response shattered the beat, “We’ve fought our whole lives. We’ve made each other miserable all of our lives,” Hayner replied, in a bitter tone. The taller male couldn’t place it, but something about the other seemed so tired and sad now. He didn’t return with zeal that made him seem larger and confident. 

“This is going to sound really fucking lame, even when next to you, chickenwuss, but the past few months I realized—“ Fuck, this was sounding like a love confession. Seifer didn’t love, and he felt nothing like romantic attraction towards his rival. _His rival._ He cleared his throat, “Dammit—Well, we’ve known each other our whole lives. I’ve technically hung out with you longer than your spiky haired lamer, even though we’ve beat the snot out of each other most of the time. But we’re in college; I want to grow the fuck up. You know me just as well at Fujin and Raijin. And I know you better than that blondie,” he stated. Seifer waited for Hayner’s reply. He knew with that _completely exemplary_ explanation there wasn’t any way the younger male would want to be friends. 

“…You’re right. It’s about time you got over yourself too, prick,” another smirk tugged at Hayner’s lips. Shock tugged something in Seifer. “This is just weird. You sound a fucking baby,” he snickered. 

“Fuck you,” he spat out with a fondness. He lightly punched the smaller shoulder, making the other’s grin widen as he return the friendly, and oh-so-familiar gesture. 

* * *

Just like that they felt normal again. Seifer didn’t ask Hayner why he looked so worn out before (though as time passed he figure it out), but weeks after they returned to a similar consistency of seeing each other a few times a week (but this time, no longer exchanging full blown fighting), the bags weren’t so obvious. It was eerie how easy it was for them to get along, although they continued to bicker because it was the only way they could communicate in public. They had a relationship which Hayner admitted Seifer was right when he said he did know him better than Roxas—which he got the gruff blond to refer to him now. 

Seifer never told Hayner of the dependency he had to him to be a constant in his life. Rather, it wasn’t needed. Without speaking they understood their juvenile fighting was something they both found therapeutical. Hayner understood when he needed to spar (no longer fighting), and understood when he wanted to be left alone. The scarred blond knew when to back off as well. It was a give-and-take relationship. 

Hayner also understood when Seifer just wanted someone to be there. Sometimes they’d show up at each other doors at midnight, wanted to drive to the shore or take a long walk. He also understood when Seifer wanted to hold his hand, and in no way meant for it to be romantic. Seifer adamantly denied romantic attraction (Fujin whispered one day, “Asexual?” which made Seifer’s nose crinkle as he deeply frowned), but didn’t deny Hayner when he wanted to lean against him, didn’t deny him when he asked for a place to stay, and didn’t deny him when they actually had a deep “staring contest” when they both ended up under the stars at 1 am. 

Because, as the college student so adamantly denied, he didn’t love. He didn’t believe in that goo-goo, body-numbing, fireworks, and violin-and-roses dinners. He believed in close, dependent relationships that express honesty and loyalty to the core. 

But sometimes, _just_ sometimes, so don’t grin behind your hands and don’t act like your heart is skipping a beat when hearing about this sappy explanation, Seifer would rethink his denial. He’d wonder why he would kiss Hayner (softly as he caressed his jawline with a calloused thumb) and feel like he could stay there for hours. He’d wonder why he’d be okay sparring until they both would be bleeding and laughing covered in each other’s blood, as if both kissing and bruising each other felt so natural and familiar to each other. The mutual dependency for each other let them thrive. Yet he found himself doing more for Hayner and not expecting anything back. And he considered for a half a second, and to enunciate again—just _consider—_ that maybe he wants to be around his childhood rival for his whole life. 

Not that he would ever say that sort of bullshit. That sounds too much like love for Seifer Almasy. And he’s tried it, loving in that way everyone expected him to love. But when Raijin told him he did love Hayner, Seifer couldn’t find himself denying it nor agreeing. Raijin nodded to Fujin before continuing to explain how the two males love; in a way that _wasn’t_ the way everyone-expected-them-to, and in a way was actually healthy between the two pent up rivals. 

Somewhere, as he thought about their codependent relationship as they held hands again as they silently strolled down the foggy and moon lit shore, he considered--okay, maybe just more than considered—that he did love Hayner Duncan. 

But Seifer wouldn’t ever _say_ that. Because he didn’t believe in love that made the whole world around them disappear, or love where either of them would cry when they fought. He _did_ believe in fighting until they were left breathless, kissing or punching until some part of their bodies were numb, locking eyes until the world around them felt so insignificant they could care less, and in waking up next to Hayner with his eyelashes highlighted by the peeking sun, that shone through the glass panes as his tan complexion’s blemishes were cast apart by the morning light, causing his stomach to flip. Seifer could believe in that.

(But in no way did he believe in breath-taking love, body-numbing love, world dispersing love, wide-eyed love, and goo-goo love. But unadmittedly, as always, he’d just contemplate the idea of that type of foreign love. He’d wonder why he didn’t feel love in the way that was so often described, but he didn’t wonder too hard, because y’know what? Even if his love wasn’t the traditional love, the love made him happy in some sort of cliche, maybe a little over-rated, but comfortably familiar, and straight up _stupid_ kind of way.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this very spontaneously at 1 AM. 
> 
> Sorry for any ooc-ness, sorry for poor grammar and vocabulary. It is a rather cliche prompt, but I was entertained with the idea that Seifer was incapable of love. Which ended up just going back to an awkward love that Seifer himself can't really grasp and doesn't bother too. 
> 
> No one probably reads Seiner fics anymore, uh, but this pairing remains to be one of my top pairings from KH. I can't escape. 
> 
> Thank you for reading though!


End file.
